


You and I

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Based on a song, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, John Legend, Short Drabble, Trans Character, song drabble?, trans woman Armin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:50:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean watches Armin struggle through her morning routine. Trans woman Armin. Song fic drabble to John Legend's You & I. All credits of the song go to John Legend, Obviously. You should listen to the song while you're reading. The song makes me cry honestly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I

**Author's Note:**

> Out of all the girls  
> You my one and only girl  
> Ain't nobody in the world tonight  
> All of the stars you make them shine like they were ours  
> Ain't nobody in the world but you and I.  
> ~John Legend

Jean watches as she cakes on layers of makeup, trying to find solace in her appearance.  
Contouring she calls it.  
He’s really quite lost as he watches her.  
Neatly patting the creams onto her face until she gets it just right.  
A quiet “dammit” escapes her lips and it’s obvious she isn’t happy with it.  
Wiping it off and starting again, Jean lets out an exhausted sigh.  
He’s watched her repeat the process a couple times now and she does this every day.  
He’s exhausted for her.  
She has a towel wrapped around her damp blonde locks and a towel clings to her body.  
He can see her eyes glancing nervously at him in the mirror and the frown deep set in her features.  
It’d been about half an hour but she’s still fussing over the powder.  
Every now and then she’ll mutter a complaint or ask him why he’s watching her so closely.  
But he’s fascinated with the way she takes care of herself.  
She’s a goddess and he doesn’t understand how she can’t see it.  
He hears her mumbling about it not settling onto her face right but to him; she looks stunning with or without it. 

 

She’s brushing over her eyebrows and tweezing away the stray hairs.  
The dark brown eyebrow pencil is working wonders and she’s very good at curving them correctly.  
When she gets her perfect arches, there’s a hint of a smile on her lips and she lets out a relieved sigh.  
For a few moments, she’s almost ecstatic.  
Then she starts with the eye liner, pulling each eyelid down by a finger at the top of her cheek and to him it looks painful.  
Dark black coats her lids and she curves the pencil up to leave a cat eye look.  
He loves how she looks like that but once again, she studies the look in the mirror before grumbling in disapproval.  
Jean just watches her curiously and he doesn’t dare interrupt her concentration.  
Bringing the makeup wipe up to wipe away the liner, she throws it down on the vanity and he hears her muttering under her breath.  
He’s fascinated with her, all he can do is watch.  
She redraws the line and this time it passes the test and she moves onto applying a vibrant gold shadow to her upper eye.  
She places the fake eyelashes on top of her short blonde ones, where she’d already settled the glue in place.  
Blinking until they’re both properly on, she lets out a wince of pain.  
He’s watched her like this every day for the past month and he never gets tired of it.  
Ever since they’d moved in together, he’s seen the pain she goes through on a daily basis.  
The unease she expresses when she gets ready in the morning or evening.  
She puts so much effort into looking good everyday and he can’t believe the trouble she goes to.  
It hurts to see her this way, but he makes himself. He wants to feel her pain too.  
He wants to know why she has such a hard time with herself when clearly she is the essence of beauty.  
Why can’t she see it? She’s putting mascara on and patting the lids of her eyes with the wipe because she got a couple specs of black on the gold.  
Once she’s done, a light red blush is dusted onto her cheeks.  
Finally, she’s applying a thin coat of red lipstick and a layer of gloss over it.  
As if leaning back to check herself out, he expects her lips to curve into a smile but they don’t.  
Her eyebrows knit in anger and she sniffles. ‘Please don’t cry.’

“I hate it.” She announces. At first he doesn’t know what to say, he’s frozen in fear and pity.  
But she doesn’t want his pity so he doesn’t even bother with that. 

“What don’t you like about it?” He knows he sounds cruel, but he can’t bring himself to help her because he can’t see a imperfection anywhere.

 

“/Everything/, I hate my body…I hate me. How can you…” She trails off, he knows what she’s about to say.  
How can you love me?  
How can you love a girl that isn’t even a real girl?  
How can you love a girl that has to put a ton of makeup on to feel normal?  
How can you love a girl who cries every morning and every night solely because she hates herself?  
How can you be strong when I’m weak?  
How?  
He’s heard it all before and his answer is never enough and while he wants to get mad, he doesn’t.  
He gets exhausted from the constant disbelief.  
She doesn’t trust him, he tells himself.  
But that’s not true.  
She trusts him more than she’s trusted anyone.  
She trusts him as much as she can.  
As much as she’s able to trust anyone.  
‘Please trust me, I’d never hurt you.’ 

 

For now, he stays silent since it seems she’s moved onto her hair.  
It’s a golden blonde color with long extensions that bring her hair down to her mid back.  
The blow dryer starts and the shrill noise it maes pulls him out of his thoughts.  
He admires her features in the mirror.  
The slight chub to her cheeks, the tiny diamond piercings in her dimples, those bright blue eyes that shine so bright, her skin is a porcelain lure and he can barely keep his gaze away from her.  
She has the most beautiful features, so soft and delicate.  
He knows without her, he’s nothing.  
She’s his everything and he’s never loved anyone as much as he loves her.  
And he never will.  
She’s his one and only and he doesn’t quite know how to express that to her.  
He knows it’s one of those times where he’ll have to show her instead of tell her.  
He’s told her so many times and it never works.  
She’s wearing a thick shroud of self hatred and all he wants to do is lift it.  
Her soft blonde hair is dry now and she’s running a curling iron through it to create soft bouncy curls.  
She seems delighted with the way it’s turning out and he can hear her humming along carefully to the song on the radio.  
A smile tugs at Jean’s lips and he sits up so that his legs are crossed in front of him. 

“Do you always peep on ladies like this when they’re getting ready?” She questions, smirking over her shoulder at him.  
He’s shocked by how quickly the mood changes.  
And when she looks over her shoulder again, she winks at him.  
Her blue eyes shimmering under the dim bedroom light and the moment is perfect.  
Her hair rests softly over her shoulders and cascades down her back. 

“Only when they’re as beautiful as you.” He returns the wink, only it’s more of a terrible eye twitch since he could never get the wink down.

“You’re an absolute fool, Jean Kirschtein. But you’re my fool and I love you.” Her slight uptown accent never ceases to make his heart stop and he feels the tug to his heartstrings as he watches her turn back around and continue humming along to the music. 

She’s singing along to the lyrics quietly and he can barely make the words out but he tries. “And this evening I, won’t let the feeling die…I never wanna leave your side…” Her voice is so soft, like a little mouse but beautiful and he’s spellbound.  
At a loss for words, he feels a tear roll down his cheek and he wishes words could express her beauty.  
He wishes there was a word capable of explaining what he felt towards her. 

She stands up from the vanity and walks over to her closet, digging around for the perfect dress.  
He can tell she’s already frustrated again and he can slowly feel the mood returning to the previous distress.  
Pulling out a turquoise sleeveless dress with lace accenting and a flowing floor length cut.  
She looks at it for a couple seconds before tossing it over her shoulder to reach into a drawer and pull out her panties and a pair of black leggings.  
Once those are on, she drops the towel cautiously.  
As if Jean will run at the sight of her bare body.  
Her breasts are small, she hasn’t had her surgery yet but she’s taking hormones and they’ve formed a little bit.  
Pulling her bra on, she stuffs the silicone forms into the underside of each cup to push up her breasts.  
However she does this facing away from him.  
He sees the way she arches her back to adjust the bra and he hears the tiny whimper that escapes her lips as she turns to the side to look over her body in the mirror.  
With the forms in, she’s a little happier and her body has a bit of extra chub to it and she looks more feminine with it.  
‘God, you’re beautiful.’

 

She’s stepping into the dress now and once it’s up, she beckons him closer to zip the back up.  
Cautiously getting to his feet, Jean walks slowly across the room and she looks over her shoulder at him.  
She’s never been comfortable with people standing behind her and he understands why.  
His hand goes carefully to the small of her back to pinch the fabric of the dress and the other hand sliding the zipper upwards.  
Once it’s done, he backs away so that she can look in the mirror.  
“I look awful.” She pouts and he knows it’s time to intervene.  
She’s pulling at the fabric of the dress and twisting her arms to try and work the zipper back down.  
Tears are rolling down her cheeks and she’s sniffling. 

“I wanna /die/.” She cries out, breaking into a fit of sobs.  
Jean can pin point that exact moment as the source of his heart breaking.  
He never wants her to hate herself this much.  
He never wants her to feel any pain at all.

“Armin Milana Arlert.” He scolds and it gets her attention because she whips around on her heels to face him.  
Her features convey shock and sadness and it’s hard not to break down in that moment.

“You’re not perfect,” He observes, looking over her body with a crucial eye and her face falls for a second.  
“No one is. But to me…” He pauses to look up at her, biting his lip nervously. “To me you’re the perfect woman. It doesn’t matter if you were born with the wrong parts, it doesn’t matter if you can’t your make up just right or if your dress doesn’t fit the way you expected. None of that matters because I fell in love with you for you. I fell in love with the way your eyes light up when you see me and the smell of your hair after we get out of the shower. I fell in love with the girl who doesn’t let herself be discouraged by the opinions of narrow minded people. I know we’ve only been together for a couple years. I know that we have a rocky relationship sometimes, but I love you. And I hope we can spend the next 80 years together.”  
His breathing is heavy and his lips are quivering, as are hers.  
She practically falls into Jean’s arms and sobs against his chest.  
‘I’m in love with you.’

 

“I didn’t ask for this...” She informs him and it’s hard to tell exactly what she didn’t ask for.  
His arms lace around her waist and drag her in closer.  
He shushes her and presses delicate kisses to her cheek as they rock back and forth along with the music. 

“I just want to feel /normal/.” 

The sobbing continues and her makeup is smeared and there’s black watered down makeup rolling down her cheeks along with the tears. 

“Let’s stay home. I don’t want anyone to see /my/ girl when she looks this beautiful except for me…” He informs her softly, picking her up gently so that he can carry to the bed.  
Her arms lace around his neck and she lets out a surprised whimper.  
Jean knew that men and women looked at Armin.  
She was gorgeous and he’d caught several people “checking her out”.  
It bothered him and he got upset but it made her happy.  
That other people thought she was beautiful enough to stare at.  
To look at longingly.  
And he could be okay with it because of how happy it made her.  
But, he didn’t like it. He had always been a jealous guy and he was overprotective of her.  
She was always the most beautiful girl in the room, especially to Jean.

“Jean…” She croaks quietly, sniffling again and nuzzling into the crook of his neck until she feels him softly place her on the bed.  
She looks up at him in confusion and he plops onto the bed beside her so that he’s laying on his side facing her.  
She rolls over onto her side too and carefully brushes a strand of hair out of his eyes.  
“What’d I ever do…?” She questions and he’s instantly confused. 

“What?” His brows furrow and he looks at her expectantly.

“What’d I do to deserve a man like you?” She questions and he lets out a soft laugh.  
In Jean’s eyes, he’s nothing spectacular.  
But to Armin, he’s her everything.  
It’s funny how that works and he can’t give her a good answer so he kisses her instead.  
Tilting his head to the side so that their lips can fit together, he cups her cheek with his hand and pulls her in closer.  
Their noses bump and even though his eyes are closed, all he can see is her.  
He’d never been so wrapped up in another person’s beauty until Armin.  
The room is filled with the sound of their lips crashing together and the delicate whimpers that flood from Armin’s lips.  
Things are heating up quickly and they’re both very obviously excited.  
His hand travels down her curves to rest on her hip and he pushes against her lips harder until his lips are working his way down her cheek and jaw to her neck.  
She lets out a soft giggle and frantically pushes him away.

“You promised me a dinner, Jean. I’m a /lady/. Don’t you know how to take care of a lady properly?”  
To this, he pulls away and lets out a soft laugh.  
Who knew whether she’ll be laughing or crying in another thirty minutes, their days had been pretty emotional lately but he didn’t care.  
Whatever emotion she was feeling, he’d be there for her.  
He wasn’t the most romantic or emotional guy, but when it came to Armin, he always gave her his all.

 

“Of course I know how.” He argued, moving to the side of the bed to sit up. “Let’s go to dinner. But the first man that checks out my babydoll is getting socked.”  
To this, she giggles and reaches out for his hand.

“Don’t pay no mind to em’, I’m coming home with you aren’t I jean?” 

“You are.” He catches her hand and helps her up. 

Neither of them were perfect, but together, their flaws were insignificant.

**Author's Note:**

> You keep wondering if you're what I'm wanting  
> You don't even have to try.  
> ~John Legend.


End file.
